


Objects In The Rearview Mirror

by DichotomyStudios



Series: Snapshots [4]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Arguing, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Friends to Lovers, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Partner Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 22:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DichotomyStudios/pseuds/DichotomyStudios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between the hour of Buck's betrayal and Chris's departure to the Naval Academy, there is still a high school graduation party to get through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Objects In The Rearview Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> * This Snapshot takes place a few days after [Already Gone](http://archiveofourown.org/works/202545).
> 
> Thanks B, for everything!

“Miss Nena…” Chris said, leaning away from the bright, flat box pressed into his hands. “You shouldn’t be spending your money on me.” The foil paper was slick to the touch, and the blue satin bow was tied professionally. He tried to look appreciative knowing she’d see right through him. And she did, but she smiled up at him anyway, her dark eyes almost disappearing between her high, round cheeks and the distinctive crow’s feet that proved, as she’d always said, that she had a happy, forgiving soul.

“Graduation is an important day,  _amor_ ,” she chastised. “Your friends know this. That’s why they are here.” She leaned around him, looking directly at Buck, who was serving pieces of cake to friends who had stopped by on the way to their own graduation parties. The diner was a sea of gold graduation caps and gowns, everybody taking the chance to offer hugs and exchange phone numbers and sign yearbooks. Buck’s superpower of always knowing when someone was looking at him—which Buck assumed was  _always_ —had him suddenly waving at them, and gesturing at Nena if she’d like a piece of cake. Chris turned from that grinning face. The hurt and anger he’d been feeling for days had dulled, but not gone. He’d done a good job of avoiding Buck, but he couldn’t avoid Angelica’s well-planned and well-intentioned party. Maybe he could go back to being friends with Buck someday. Or maybe in a few days Indiana would stay in his rearview mirror and he’d never think about it again.

He noticed Nena looking at him slyly, and rolled his eyes at her. Her eyebrows raised, she didn’t say a word—her most disarming attack—but before he could admit anything stupid a glass shattered right behind them. Instantly he made eye contact with Buck, who nodded and disappeared to find the broom. Chris raised his voice to warn a few people away from the shards and herded Nena to the stool he’d been sitting on when she’d arrived. She pressed her lips at him in exasperation. Of course the stool was too high for her, and at her age she might fall and break a hip; hadn’t he listened to anything she’d told him in all the years she’d been working in the Larabee kitchen,  _for pity’s sake_? He raised his hands in defeat. “Sorry. How about a table instead?”  

“No, I want you to open your present. Right now, before Jorge gets here. Then I will sit down, okay?”

He pulled on the ribbon, bracing himself to be casually polite, aware of the sharp eyes watching his face, not his hands. It was a picture frame. Cherry wood, finely crafted and carved, and he was right,  _expensive_. But that wasn’t the gift she’d given him.

It was a family portrait, not any he’d ever seen. Against the backdrop of the great room fireplace, Chris’s father stood proudly in his dark dress uniform, colorful service medals stacked in rows on his chest. His chin was raised, he looked serious, but his eyes were pleased. Chris’s mother was draped elegantly into her chair at his side, the pleats of her skirt arranged artistically over crossed legs, her face carefully neutral but not haughty or cold the way Chris knew her. He barely remembered her any other way.

And there was teenaged Adam, seated at her feet next to a much younger Chris. He remembered that day, how bored they’d been, and how much trouble they’d gotten into for goofing around as the photographer was directing poses. Adam had given Chris rabbit ears, then goosed him and tickled him, and Chris elbowed him in return, and stomped on his foot. He’d had to continually stifle giggles behind his hands in between their parent’s strong words and the photographer’s half-hidden glares. In the picture Adam had his arm crooked around Chris’s shoulders, where he’d yanked him in for a hard squeeze just before he noogied the hell out of him. Young Chris was grinning at Adam like he was the only one in the room, aware his big brother was up to no good and enjoying every bit of it. And Adam was beaming at Chris with so much glee, so happy and alive.

“Your mother only approved the one picture. The one over the fireplace upstairs. The rest of these samples were rejected. I kept this one locked away so she would not get mad, but I want you to have it.”

“Hey! Whatcha got there? Is that your family?”

Buck’s voice was so loud and unexpected in his ear, Chris startled badly, almost dropping the frame. He gripped it to his chest, and jerked away from Buck’s unwelcome hand on his hip. “It ain’t none of your concern, Buck. Aren’t you supposed to be  _working_?” Part of him was glad for the unguarded hurt on Buck’s face, and he waited, tense, as Buck backed away, nodding like he was agreeing with Chris.

One blink later Buck’s chameleon face changed completely. He smiled softly at Nena, saying, “Miss Nena, ma’am, I’ll get you a piece of cake. Just give me one second and I’ll be right back.” Chris had to grit his teeth, wanting to hurry him away, not really wanting him to come back. Whether because he was angry at Buck’s interruption, or because he could still feel the weight of Buck’s hand, he wasn’t sure, and didn’t care to think about it.

“Two pieces, Buck. Jorge will be here in a few minutes. Maybe three pieces. He loves cake. No, no, too much sugar, nevermind. Just the two pieces, thank you.” Laughing, Buck disappeared into the crowd, and Chris relaxed, looking for a convenient table near the door where he could ask a few friends to move so they could let Nena and Jorge sit down. From the corner of his eye he knew Nena was giving him the look that made him feel guilty. She crooked her finger at him and, obediently, he bent at the waist, bringing their faces close together. “Whatever you think of them, your parents love you. I know it is not always easy to see, but it’s true. Your mother… may you never understand, but -” She made the sign of the cross over her chest, and whispered, “It is the hardest thing to bear, to lose a  _child_.” She rattled off something in Spanish or Filipino, maybe a prayer, and when he started to back away she grabbed him by the ears, pulling a little harder than necessary. His face heated, and he forced himself to not look around to see who was watching. “You are what kept her here, with us. You keep this picture and you look at it sometimes. You do this for me. People make mistakes,  _mi amor_. You will make mistakes. I am just an old lady, I am not very smart, but I know the pride and the grudge, those are not important things. You learn to forgive them like Nena, okay? Everybody deserves a second chance.  _Dios quiere que no_ , but you may need a second chance someday, too. Love and forgiveness, not pride and the grudge, okay? You remember what I say.” She pulled him closer and kissed him gently on the forehead before releasing him just as Buck returned.

“Ah ah, wait, wait! I have a camera. I need pictures. Buck, come stand next to  _mi amor_  so I can have a picture, okay? You do this for me?” Chris started to object but she shut him up with a glare. He sighed and stood next to Buck, an empty space between them, fake smiles in place. Angelica appeared in an apron, smelling like the kitchen area of stainless steel and frying oil. She fussed over Nena for a few seconds before Nena made Angelica stand with Buck. Their picture was much different, and Chris watched Buck and Angelica together, painfully reminded of Adam’s playfulness at the photoshoot, of his brother's love, of how much he missed him, had missed him for years. He looked down at the frame clutched tightly against his chest and eased it back, considering his mother. He could be wrong, it could be that Nena’s words had wormed their way into his head already, but his mother looked like she was trying not to smile.

Even though neither of his parents had come to his graduation or the party, the night had gone better than Chris expected.

“Okay,  _amor_ , I am done. My feet hurt and I want cake. Here, this one is for you.” She handed him one of the Polaroids she’d taken. It wasn’t done developing yet, but he could see it was the picture of Angelica and Buck. “So you remember the people who love you.”

He hugged her, then took the old camera from her hands, snapped her picture, and pocketed it. “Thank you for the gifts, Miss Nena. I’ll remember. I promise.”

 


End file.
